Mass release: 9/15
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Tara Chione Crowther Abdelaal
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Micah's undertone got me on edge and I glared at him, genuinely glared at him with anger, because what the hell did I do to him? I never even used to mock or mess with him before nearly four years ago, but then he began to mess with me, in Cleo's behalf, and everything went down hill when they started dating. But he hates me as if I was responsible for the genocide of all of his ancestors that came before his paternal and maternal grandparents, which was not me, it was the mambas doing.
Hah, to think he loves Cleopatra without even knowing she's the real heiress and not me. I wonder if he'll feel guilty, if he'll beat himself for it, if he'll resent his stupid actions towards me. But I know, deep down, that this will never happen, especially not when the Abdelaal put up the act of me being an impostor and all that shit. I bet he'll side with Cleopatra, even if it's to try killing me as she desires.
Why can't I hate him?
Why can't I stop feeling... this for him?
Why can't I take him off my mind?
Feeling bad for myself, I blinked and glared at my plate, then I got back to eating, refusing to say another word to them. To speak to or look at Micah, knowing doing so will only make me feel worse, even if as I breathed, I concentrated my olfaction to only breath in his scent. The Bitter Peach scent I'm so helplessly addicted to, maybe because it's him, or maybe it's because it's the most similar scent to the unique scent my dad had, and me missing him so much makes me want to hold onto Micah and breathe him in.
I have to stop feeling whatever this is for him.
I am a dragon, and he is a vampire-wolf who hates my guts.
I am a dragon, and he wouldn't handle well what I am.
I am a dragon, and he's a surface un-natural.
I am a dragon, and he's not.
I am a dragon, and I am superior to him.
I am a dragon, and I am stronger than him.
I am a dragon, and I will outlive him.
I am a dragon, and he's not mine.
I am a dragon, and he's not my mate.
He is not my mate!
He is not my mate, and I have to let him go of my heart.
Finishing my breakfast, I rose up, put my handbag across my body, grabbed my tray and walked to the table where we were supposed to put our trays on, even if most of those unruly brats think they can just leave it on the tables and the kitchen witches will come get it. It disgusts me. And to my annoyance and the curiosity of most in the cafeteria, the five cunts followed me there.
"You've ate it, now let's go," Micah exclaimed firmly.
I jumped out of the way before he could touch me, "I can teleport myself. Do not touch me with your filthy hands, you little hybrid fool," I sneered. "She wants me there, not you!"
"She wants us to escort you," Kento snapped.
"Do I look like a give a shit?" I mocked and with a snap of my fingers, I teleported myself to the front of the headmaster's hellhole of an office. It took them ten seconds to teleport to me, probably because my magic is more advanced than Micah's, even if I can barely use it at all.
"Why are you so troublesome?" Micah growled.
"I was born different," I snapped and pointed to the door. "Go, open it, aren't you the escort? Do what she ordered you to. Aren't you dogs the best at doing exactly that?"
When I saw the anger in his eyes, I felt genuinely relieved, I'm familiar with it, "You are a bitch, Chione."
"That's not very creative, Montevecchi," I replied.
Clenching his jaw, oh-so-painfully beautiful, he opened the double doors and I passed by him, making sure not to touch his arms. Soon I felt them following me until one of them closed the doors, and Micah stood at my right, towering over me even though I'm with my platform boots from Prada, the special edition in ciano blue, matching with my golden dress that goes up to the middle of my thighs.
"Headmaster," I said, not pleasant to be here.
"Good morning, Chione," she purred, then pointed at one of the two chairs in front of her desk, "sit." Micah sat at my side and his friends sat down in the couch.
I took a minute before sitting down, feeling cornered, when I did, I made sure to keep my distance from Micah, and my attention focused on the old rag, even if she doesn't look old at all. "At least one of us is having a good morning," I said under my breath.
"Thanks to you, I am, yes," she grinned.
Oh, this is bad. "I don't see how that could the case."
"I'll let you know soon."
I swallowed, "Why are the escorts needed?"
Instead of answering me, she opened a portal behind her and three people came out of it, two that I have never met, and the top 1 student of senior year Dean Taylor Russo, a hybrid of vampire with mamba, the second strongest student of the Academy, only second to Micah. "You already know Dean," then she pointed to the ones I don't know, "but these two are my shadows, Katheryn Lozano and Lawrence Gilmore, he's a vampire and she's a mamba."
"How ominous, yay," I mocked, feeling genuinely cornered. "I don't see how I have anything to do with them, or with those dogs you sent to get me, headmaster," my voice was a hiss, even though I tried to hold it back.
"All the people who knows the truth are in this room," then she put on a sound barrier that blocked the entire office, making my anxiety skyrocket.
"Know what?" I asked, not hiding my wariness.
"You see, yesterday, after you said all of that, I began to look into some things, trying to understand all you said, and my shadows went deep into it with me, and so did Dean, Micah and his group. And you know what we learned?" She grinned, "That you did not have any contact with your mother before you were 9 years old, just as you are not the King's daughter."
A silence reigned and they all stared at me, waiting.
Well, this is bad, but you know what? Took them long enough.